


This Jim

by slashsailing



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cocaine, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashsailing/pseuds/slashsailing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reposted as a chaptered work instead of a series. </p><p>Leonard deals with the fallout of Jim's drug addiction, putting himself and Jim in a vicious cycle that cripples them both. With their friendship floundering will Bones be able to give Jim the help he needs or simply continue to feed the habit that is slowly ruining them both? And how will they ever be able to return to the Jim and Bones they once were?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bones is numb from the layer of coke covering his body. Jim is currently strewn in between his open thighs, using a data card to cut a line of Cardassian coke just under his pectoral muscle. In a vague, faint, way Bones knows he should be able to feel Jim’s weight against him, above him, pinning him down – but he can’t. 

“Fuck, Bones.” Jim hisses and the force of his breath blows some of the coke into the air, Bones reflexively breathes in. The stuff is good, really good, and he can understand why Jim goes back for more, and more, and _more_. “I need to be inside you.” He says, carefully snorting the line he’s made before brushing a hand over Bones’ chest, rubbing the coke into the skin above his heart. But Bones can’t speak, he’s too out of it to even murmur his consent, he just lies there, like pliable putty in Jim’s hands.

He’s already loose and still filled with Jim’s come from the first time round so Jim just pushes inside Bones again without any preamble. _This_ Bones can feel. He feels so full and warm and safe, he doesn’t have to think because he knows Jim has him even if this Jim isn’t like the one he’s used to. Coked-up Jim isn’t just playfully cocky, full of bravado and childish arrogance, no, coked-up Jim is a brand of self-assured that borders on conceited, and his vanity makes him self-indulgent. This Jim wants Bones so completely, wants to mark him, to own him but has little regard for Bones’ own desires. It is selfishly hedonistic but Bones, even now lying here physically and emotionally _numb_ , will surrender himself to Jim.

Jim plunders inside Bones, as if he’s trying to win a race, competing with who knows what and Bones absently wonders what the prize will be. Surely not him, for he is only this Jim’s means to an end. An end that Bones is still curious about, an end that is still unknown to him. An end that seems so far away. Bones makes a conscious effort to try and take part but his limbs are heavy so he just clenches his muscles at irregular intervals and that seems to please Jim greatly. “Yes.” Jim hisses. “ _Mine_.”

Bones is a doctor; he knows that long term cocaine abuse can have serious effects on the mind and body, brain damage, tachycardia, cardiovascular disease. Cardassian coke is worse still because it’s marketed in such a way that people ignore the fact that this is a highly addictive substance, even if the chances of stroke, heart attack and death is much lower. Cardassian coke actually has very little effect on the heart; it was developed to specifically target the brain and as such proves to produce much higher levels of dependency in its clientele which is dangerous because terra humans are taught that coke is not very addictive at all. One day, one day soon, Jim will not be able to come down from his high, will not want to let himself, because the crash will be too great and the changes to his brain structure too extensive to reverse. But that will also be the day where Bones loses his Jim for good and is stuck in a perpetual _fucked up_ cycle with this one.

Bones doesn’t want to lose his Jim, even if he and his Jim are only good friends. _Best fucking friends_ the frustrated voice in his head reminds him.

Jim will hate himself in the morning, when he’s showered and fed and had time to think about the events of last night.

But he will hate Bones during the comedown. Jim’s breath is raging in Bones’ ears and he knows it will be soon. It’s no more than Bones’ deserves really. He should have stopped Jim months ago. Should have stood firm the first time Jim was offered the drug on their shore leave in Risa, done everything in his power to keep Jim from going back for more, and more, and _more_. He will hate Bones again in a few days when he begins to crash and his hands start to shake and the mood swings and insomnia set in. Bones will refuse at first; tell Jim that there is _none_ left. But Jim knows that Bones keeps enough, knows that Bones would never let Jim want for anything, _knows_ that as a doctor Bones cannot refuse Jim because it could lead to psychosis and that could send him insane.

So eventually Bones will part with the coke, and Jim will snort a line immediately, cut shakily on Bones’ glass-topped desk with whatever’s close to hand.  Jim will invite Bones back to his quarters and again Bones will refuse. But then his Jim’ll snort another line and turn into this Jim. This Jim, who knows just how to seduce Bones. Knows just what he wants. And so they’ll end up like this again.

An imperfect, shaky, circle.

Jim comes with a familiar moan and then withdraws, lying beside Bones and tracing patterns in the coke that layers his ribs. It seems like mindless tracing to begin with but then Jim presses down a touch harder and Bones can feel a heart being carved into his skin.

“I love you like this.” Jim whispers.

In the cover of darkness and under the influence of a drug induced haze Jim _does_ love Bones. Maybe that’s why Bones can’t refuse Jim, because he needs this and is addicted to this just as much as Jim is to Cardassian coke.

The comedown makes Jim resentful and depressive, and it makes Bones feel like he’s the one who’s been taking advantage. Maybe he is. They’re still lying side by side. Jim’s breathing is weaker and his eyes are glassy. “I’m sorry Bones.” Jim says. “You know you shouldn’t let me.”

“I know, Jim.” Because Bones has long since learnt not to defend his behaviour or argue back.

But the initial apologies, the ones formed while Jim’s system is still clinging onto the last of the cocaine, quickly subside in favour of Jim’s agonised expression and his biting need to blame.

“It’s disgusting that you let this happen.” Jim snaps, quickly pulling his wary limbs away from Bones. “You can’t just lie there Bones, you have to go. I can’t- can’t even look at you right now.”

“Okay, Jim.” Bones says, he wipes a hand down his powdery torso and shakes it off his palm, creating a little white cloud that quickly dissipates. He shrugs into a shirt and slips out of the room, only glancing back once and hating the image of Jim sitting on the edge of the bed, hands in his head, elbows on his knees, back curved away from Bones, just waiting for the doctor to leave so that he can begin his ritual sobbing.

Bones sobs too once he’s back in the confines of his own quarters. The numbness leaves his body in one sudden sweep and he’s immediately confronted with the all familiar feelings of guilt and shame, of loss and dread as well as the soreness in his arse and heart and the dryness in his throat. Tomorrow Jim will be slightly subdued on the bridge, he’s long since foregone coming down to sickbay to apologise for the events of the previous night, both the physical and the verbal abuse he believes Bones doesn’t deserve, and so he’ll compulsively think it over instead. Jim will look like a guilty puppy whose bitten their owner until Spock will comment on these recurring bouts of melancholy which will snap Jim out of it immediately, returning everything to normal.

One thing Jim will not let cocaine do is come between him and captaining _The Enterprise_.

It’s three days before Jim is back in Bones’ office. Usually it’s four days and so Bones wonders what could possibly have brought Jim down to sickbay. Since Jim’s addiction has become such a significant part of both their lives their relationship has been stripped bare, functioning soley on a completely professional level in Jim’s sober hours. They’re usual dinner catch-ups and sneaky drinking sessions have halted and their brotherly companionship is all but dead. Some of the crew have commented but most just believe it’s the strain of a five year mission and their positions as senior officers.

No one suspects a crippling drug addiction.

“Hey, Bones.” Jim says gently. “You busy tonight?”

“Got a fair amount of paperwork.” Bones nods.

Jim moves to the cabinet where he knows the coke is kept, it’s kept under metaphorical lock and key, Bones has never told Jim the safe’s code and Jim’s override is useless. Jim taps against the metal restlessly, drawing Bones’ attention from the files in front of him to the desperate look in Jim’s eyes. It makes Bones feel sordid, like any two-bit drug dealer on a back street somewhere, he holds the key to Jim’s release, to his happiness and the weight of that responsibility bears down on him. And bears down _hard_.

“Tomorrow, Jim.” Bones whispers. “It’s too soon.”

“I need it _today_.” Jim says, as if he’s asking for a report to be written or an inventory to be completed.

“No, Jim.” Bones huffs.

“Look, we both know you’ll give in so let’s skip this tedious rigmarole and get to the good stuff.” Jim counters, skin tinged an unappealing shade of grey. “I get high you get fucked, it’s what we both want.” And that makes Bones flinch.

“No, what I want is to get fucked while you’re sober.” Bones snaps. “But it’s not going to happen, so you can go and find your coke elsewhere.”

“Now.” Jim says with an edge of something dark and hateful to his voice. Bones swallows, mouth suddenly dry. Then his expression softens. “I’ll blow you first, if you want?”

“On your knees?” Bones asks, heart slowly breaking. “Like some trick down a Risian alleyway? Will you call me sweetheart or is honey more your thing?”

“Bones.” Jim reasons. “It’s not like that with you, we give each other what we need.”

“What I _need_ is for you to get clean, to be _Jim_ again. I’d never even think about _kissing_ you again if it meant you’d get clean. I’ll never go near you again Jim, I swear, I promise. Just please don’t do this to yourself. You’re destroying yourself.” Bones whispers, eyes wet.

“I’m still me, still the same Jim I always was.” Jim says.

“Jim you just offered to blow me for a few grams of coke!” Bones roars. “This isn’t just a dabble anymore, a bit of fun, this is you doing things you would never have ever considered before. If I don’t give it to you are you going to wait until we’re docked at a Starbase and suck some stranger’s cock to get your fix?”

“What? Of course not!” Jim chuckles harshly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t think it _is_ ridiculous.” Bones says quietly.

“Maybe it’s _you_ who’s destroyed me.” Jim hisses. “You say the same _shit_ all the time, but you still ply me with coke eventually and lay back moaning like a whore when I’m balls deep inside you.”

“Don’t you think I hate myself for it?” Bones screams. “That I can’t say no to you? I _wish_ I could be a better man, a better friend but I can’t.”

“Come on, Bonesy, you’re a great friend. Just a gram, huh?” Jim shrugs. “That’s nothing.”

“Go away, Jim.” Bones says, completely toneless.

“I’ll trash your medbay.” Jim threatens.

“No you won’t, because then people would talk.” Bones reminds.

“I’m not being unreasonable here, asking for a gram. What are you going to do, snort it yourself?” Jim questions.

“Flush it like I should have months ago.” Bones huffs.

“Don’t.” Jim says quickly, eyes wide with terror. “Please.” Comes out like a broken little whimper.

“Jim.” Bones whispers.

“I love you, Bones.” Jim says, it’s a declaration Bones hears every time but it’s the gravity which Jim can muster that makes him cave, not the words, because Bones knows he doesn’t mean the words. “I love you.” Jim repeats with a ferocity that makes Bones’ stomach flip flop. _No he doesn’t_ the rational voice inside his head says and Bones tries to maintain his resolve.

“I can’t, Jim.” Bones says, eyeing the cabinet.

“Just tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go.” Jim says, moving away from the cabinet and crouching in front of Bones, hands on Bones’ knees, rubbing soothing circles.

“I can’t do that either.” Bones says softly, pushing a hand through Jim’s sweat damp hair, looking down into that well of blue eyes.

“Then I can’t go.” Jim reasons gently, eyes flicking back over to the cabinet. “Come on, Bones.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Jim urges, nails biting into Bones’ knees.

“Just a gram?” And Bones can’t believe that was his voice.

“Unless you want to bring an ounce to play with?” Jim offers with a soft voice and a gentle smile. Like it’s actually Bones’ request or _choice_. For Jim _play_ actually means rub over Bones’ body until he can’t remember his own name, like last time. They don’t always do it but Jim certainly enjoys himself when they do. Bones shakes his head mutely and Jim surges up to lock their lips.

“You’re so perfect.” Jim says, and he hasn’t even had a line yet. Then he moves up off the floor and pulls Bones hand into his, leading him over to the cabinet. Bones presses his thumb to the little ID pad and then keys in a code, Jim obediently looking at the ground. Bones takes out one of the bags, already weighed at a gram and sets it into Jim’s palm. Jim’s self-assured cockiness is back, the vulnerability having seeped away at the promise of a fix. Bones steps back, watching Jim clutch the bag to his chest. “We’d better be going.” He nods at the door.

“It’s not good for either of us Jim, if you have to do it you’ll have to do it alone.” Bones says with a voice he’s not sure he can trust. Jim frowns and goes to speak but Bones says: “Please.” In a quiet, child’s voice.

“Okay, Bonesy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jim doesn’t look back as he walks away.

He doesn’t come down to see Bones the next day. It’s not until two days later when Jim is actually lying on his operating table, Chapel flabbergasted by the sheer amount of benzoylmethylecgonine in his blood stream, that Bones sees him again. She looks up at Bones who looks away. Jim’s got a phaser burn that runs over his abdomen and that is what currently needs his attention, not Chapel’s eyes, filled with her confusion and her accusations.

Jim wakes up still groggy from the anaesthetic. Bones is sitting on the chair beside the bed, still wearing his bloody scrubs. “Chapel’s filing a report to Spock because she believes me to be emotionally compromised in regards to you.”

“Excuse me?” Jim asks, voice sharp and suddenly alert.

“There was still coke in your blood stream.” Bones says.

“Why did you let her work on me?” Jim demands.

“You were bleeding out from two points; I needed an extra pair of hands.”

“You have to fix it. Tell Chapel you’re medicating me with it or something.” Jim says hurriedly, brain looking for ways out.

“No Jim, it stops now.” Bones says.

“Is this cause we didn’t fuck the other night?” Jim spits. “That one was on you Bones.”

“I need to change out of these scrubs.” Bones says, stepping behind the privacy screen.

“Coward.” He hears Jim say.

Jim’s care has been transferred to M’Benga and even though he shouldn’t Bones uses his medical authority to read over Jim’s medical notes as and when Geoff updates them. Jim’s in day eight of cold turkey and apparently hasn’t offered Geoff sexual favours for drugs but has repeatedly told him of he and Bones’ sexual exploits over the past six months. Bones never thought that this would be how he would lose his medical licence but it’s the outcome that seems most likely. Physically Jim seems to be fine, he’s just in a drug-withdrawal depression that should ease up when he body readjusts to life without cocaine. Jim can come back from this, only Chapel, Spock and M’Benga know why Jim’s being kept in sickbay and even when Starfleet get wind of it, the most Jim will face is a slapped wrist seeing as though his conduct has been faultless even under the influence – medically Jim can argue that the influence of cocaine is out of the neurological system after four hours and so would have no bearing on his decisions made while on the Bridge. And Spock has learnt his lesson about filing reports about Jim’s conduct so no doubt will choose his words wisely.

Bones just needs to make it through the next week one day at a time. Jim will be released in three days providing he continues to progress, the agitation and restlessness have died down, even his increased appetite is returning to normal, although Bones knows the nightmares are still infusing Jim’s sleep but it’s none of his concern now. Jim hasn’t asked for him and he doesn’t intend to push himself on the captain.

But staying away from Jim is torture.

This last week or two has been his own hilariously warped version of cold turkey and he almost envies Jim, whose end point is at least within sight.

There is a tap at his office door two days later. It’s Jim who subconsciously looks at the cabinet upon entering before sitting down in the chair opposite Bones’. The drugs have of course been flushed, Chapel made sure of that herself, throwing disappointed glances at Bones as she did so. Jim's back in his command gold shirt and looking so much better. 

“We’re dropping you at Starbase 1 in two days, until then I have been advised to remove you from active duty. There will be a hearing once you arrive back on Earth. This is regretful, doctor, but protocol nonetheless.” Jim says calmly before getting up out of his chair and moving to leave the room again.

“You bastard.” Bones whispers.

“I can’t, Bones.” Jim says without looking back. “I _am_ sorry.”

“So am I. But at least I could say it to your face if you’d let me.” He spits.

“It’s funny how we ended up here, huh?” Jim says before walking from the CMO’s office, shutting the door with a controlled click.

“Hilarious.”

Bones doesn’t have his medical licence revoked but is given a years suspension from medical practice and relocated to Starfleet’s medical research centre in San Francisco as head of the neurology department. The nature of his hearing is kept in the greatest confidence which he is thankful for, but, he realises the brass are only doing it to cover themselves, because really, who would trust a former _cocaine_ dealer as the head of _neurology_? The irony of that is almost as funny as Jim’s cack-handed goodbye, but the latter hurts more, much, much more. 


	2. No Bones

Leonard, because that’s who he is now, not  _Bones_ ,  _never_ Bones, has decided that losing everything is much worse the second time round. Even after three years of being grounded at Starfleet Medical he still wakes up in the morning hoping it’s all been a horrible dream and that he hasn’t monumentally screwed up his life for the second time. Although, the first time, with Jocelyn, at least things could get better, this time Leonard knows this is his life from here on out – miserable and empty. He does what he didn’t do the first time round and throws himself into work, he publishes papers detailing new medical procedures for neural damage and redrafts his journal on the neural graft, he does research on the effects of substance abuse on the brain and develops new ways to enhance the efficiency of cell division in the brain in order to make reversing brain damage that much more possible. He even revisits his psychology PhD and researches the physiological responses to various drugs in order to improve treatment for those suffering from addictions, he’s also in the middle of research that is coding the DNA sequences of addicts to see if there are genetic markers to suggest if someone will be more biologically predisposed to addictive behaviour.

He realises he’s trying to atone for his sins.

Sometimes he wonders if Jim ever hears about his research, wonders what he’d think. Unlike the first time Leonard doesn’t turn to drink. He tried to but it only made him think about Jim. He was always a morose drunk but this time it was multiplied tenfold. This time, unlike the first, Leonard  _actually_  lost everything – because he lost the love of his life.

People seem to respect him though, even those who know the ins and outs of his near-discharge from Starfleet. People look at him as if he’s moved on, as if he’s handling things. It’s been three years, maybe he should be. But he can’t. Some nights, the worst nights, the ones where he’d love to reach for the bottle, or a razor, he wishes he was still lying on the floor of the Captain’s quarters of the  _Enterprise_  covered in Cardassian coke. Sometimes he lets himself remember the feeling of a warm body lying over his, tongue brushing against his skin, fingers tracing delicate patterns over his goose-pimpled flesh.

But that was such a tainted love. So ugly in its beginning that it would never have been able to last.  _Could_  never.

Bones has made a conscious effort never to look up the fate of the  _Enterprise_ ; he skips over articles on his PADD and he turns the channel when faced with holo-news reports. His mouth goes dry when he hears a mention of the  _Enterprise_  or any member of the four-hundred person crew, all of whom he remembers because he was once their doctor and any  _old country doctor_  worth their penny will always know their patients by name and by face because a healer is at the heart of their community and that was one thing Bones always was. But he’s not Bones anymore and he rarely practices medicine in a surgeon’s capacity. He’s been called in a few times on particularly tricky cases and his medical skill is revered. Revered enough that he often receives private requests from the rich and famous to do their medical procedures.

The thought of being a private physician makes him sick.

But he misses being a doctor.

His ignorance in regards to the current state of the  _Enterprise_  comes back to bite him on the ass soon enough, though, what with it currently docked on Earth and it’s command team running round Starfleet HQ for a debrief of their first five year mission.

Nyota steps into his lab with the gentle click-clack of expensive heels and a cool assessing gaze. Leonard isn’t sure what to do but he sets down the PADD he’s currently working on and looks up at her as she approaches.

“You should have come to meet us when we docked.” She says, her voice hasn’t changed, still as dulcet but firm as ever.

“I doubt I would have been welcome.” Leonard says honestly, not enough energy in him to be gruff or standoffish; he almost feels like a scolded child trying to buy his way back into mommy’s good books.

“I know of a few people who would have liked to see you.” She counters, pulling out the chair opposite the lab bench he’s stationed at and sitting diagonally across from him.

“It seems you’d all be able to find me.” Leonard says warily, he’s actually grateful that she thought to pay him a visit but is so out of practice at socialising he’s not sure he’s going to ever be able to express it. “I’m sorry.” He says after a moment of living under her unamused gaze. “I didn’t know you had docked, I’m glad you’ve come to see me. I’m glad it was you.” He says.

“And not Jim?” She prompts.

“It wouldn’t have been Jim.” Leonard refutes.

“He hasn’t said much to me about the nature of his illness.” She says and Leonard immediately knows what she is talking about, feels the fine rub of white powder between his fingertips but upon looking down is only met with the sight of the standard issue latex gloves that he’s been wearing since lunchtime. “But I believe he regrets the way he left things with you.”

“Nyota, please.” Leonard begins but pauses to swallow a gulp of air he didn’t know he needed. “Don’t.”

“You were in love with him.” She states.

“Yes.” Leonard whispers. “But he didn't return those feelings.”

“I see.” She says, pressing her lips together. “I have a meeting with the communications department but perhaps we can see each other for lunch in the week?”

“Perhaps.” Leonard says but they both know he has no intentions of making any lunch dates with any Enterprise crew member. It brings him too close to Jim. Too close to the precipice and he isn’t sure that once so close to the edge he wouldn’t dive over.

To torment himself, that night when he’s lying in bed, he wonders if Jim asked Nyota to check on Leonard, wonders if Jim might still care about his once-best-friend’s welfare. But Leonard decided long ago that the mention of his name probably makes Jim recoil in disgust, the endearment  _Bones_  now grating on his nerves like chalk on a chalk board.

That’s why the knock on the front door of his apartment is wholly unexpected, especially when, upon opening it, Jim’s form is what stands before him.

Jim is just looking at him, blinking those beloved baby blues at him and inhaling, exhaling even breaths. Then he says  _hello Bones_  and Leonard wants to cry. “Could I maybe…” Jim looks around Leonard as if to gesture inside and so Leonard nods mutely and steps aside. Leonard knows his insomnia medication can sometimes have hallucinogenic side effects but he’s been taking them for two and a half years and he’s never experienced any. Maybe he’s experiencing them now  _because_  he’s been on them for two and a half years. “Are you going to say anything?” Jim asks, turning in the wide open-plan loft space to question Leonard.

“I don’t understand.” Leonard says. “Why’re you here?”

“To apologise.” Jim replies.

“Apologise?” And then Leonard remembers their last conversation, the cold, text-book, disciplinary that Captain Kirk had given him before he’d been docked on the closest Starbase and left to rot. Three years ago Leonard might have roared at Jim, stripped him down a peg or two and verbally thrashed him. But he was Bones then and he’s Leonard now, and Leonard is just a tired - no,  _exhausted_  actually – researcher, who is empty and hollow and broken.

“I should have kept in contact; I shouldn’t have cut you out like I did. I’m disgusted with myself, I never meant-”

“Please stop.” Leonard says and Jim closes his mouth, waiting for what Leonard has to say. “It hurt.” He admits and it kills him to say so. “But it hurts more now. I can’t try to make it stop hurting if you’re here. You have the whole of space Jim and you’re here in my apartment not letting me forget what I did. What I did to you. What I let you do to yourself. You have the whole fucking universe.” Leonard breaks off, needing to draw in a deep breath to keep himself from crying right there like a child in front of his used-to-be Captain, used-to-be best-friend. Used-to-be lover, a sick part of his brain reminds him and he needs Jim to leave now.

Jim doesn’t know what to say. That much is clear from the silent shock written all over his features, corrupting his beautiful eyes just like cocaine once did and Leonard is all too familiar with those eyes and they render him so guilty and helpless that he has to look away. “ _I’m_  sorry.” Leonard says. “If you’re here to look for forgiveness Jim I’ll tell you now you don’t need it. I took advantage of you when you were vulnerable and you  _never_  need to apologise to me for that.” He stops and turns his gaze back to Jim. “Please go.” He pleads gently, voice rough from the very presence of Jim back in his life, in his  _home_.

“I need you to listen to me.” Jim says levelly. “You’re right. I do have the whole of space and you want to know what I’ve found in the last three years?” He pauses but Leonard knows it’s rhetorical. “It’s empty without you, Bones. Without you it’s just darkness, just a void. Before the- before everything with the cocaine, we were good you and me, weren’t we?”

“So many things have changed, Jim.” Leonard says. “I can’t be that man anymore. I’m not that man. Not the friend you remember. I’m not Bones.”

“Yes you are.” Jim urges, nostrils flaring slightly and eyes widen to stave off his own bought of tears. “I know you are. You’re always Bones, my Bones.”

“I don’t deserve to be your anything, Jim. Sometimes we just take a step too far. We’ve fallen apart Jim, we’re not going to be able to claw back what we’ve lost.” Leonard says.

“I can’t leave you behind again.” Jim says. “I love you, Bones.”

“Our chance for love is long over Jim. I should have known that, I let myself indulge in my own warped version of the way I wanted the world to be and look where it got us.” Leonard shakes his head.

“I can’t leave you.” Jim repeats.

“Yes you can, kid.” Leonard nods. “You’ll be fine.”

“I won’t.” Jim urges, bringing his hand up to cup Leonard’s cheek.

“I’m your biggest mistake Jim.” Leonard murmurs. “Please go. You don’t know how hard this is.”

Leonard doesn’t know how long he can hang on for. How long can one man hold onto the side of the coldest, darkest, rock-face before he just has to let go? Even though he knows he won’t make it through the free-fall. It’s so hard to be near Jim, to feel the warmth that he radiates, to see the love and passion in his eyes, Leonard feels like the most unworthy insect clambering for a glimpse of an artificial light. But Leonard knows he will get burnt, because Jim Kirk is not just a light source but a proud open flame, beautiful in all it’s dangerous glory. Life giving and soul purifying.

Leonard needs that flame.

But if Leonard steps to close he might just put it out, rip it from Jim like he almost did once before.

“Sometimes two people just can’t work Jim.” Leonard says.

“Not us, Bones.” Jim shakes his head.

“You don’t get it Jim.” Leonard huffs. “I can’t give you whatever it is you want. I don’t have anything  _to_  give.”

“I just want you.” Jim says. “I’ve thought about you every day for the past three years, I watched as we sailed away from you and I hated myself for it. Hated what I’d let us become, what I’d turned us into. I used your love, your pure, honest love and I ruined it. I was scared then. Scared to let you love me. You burn like the brightest star, like a star gone nova and I was so frightened of having all that love. I wasn’t worthy of it, I was irresponsible with it and it broke my heart when I walked out of your office. I  _don’t_ deserve a second chance. I don’t. But I need you to know that I want one.” He’s so close to Leonard, looking desperately like a man about to crumble – a man who has lost his bones. Leonard can hear the unsteady pulls of breath that belie Jim’s earlier exterior. The Kirk calmness has faded and they’re back ten years ago, back on the shuttle - two broken men in dire need of a friend.

“I don’t know how to stop loving you.” Leonard says. “I used to wish I could but I can’t.” He can feel his eyes well. “I hated the way it ended because of how sour things were, how all the good memories were blackened by those last few months. I’d give you anything, Jim, and we’ve seen sometimes it leads to the determent of us both. If you want me you can have me, freely and without reservation but I’m broken beyond anything you might recognise.” Leonard is scared that once Jim realises that he can’t be the Bones Jim remembers he will leave again. If Jim loves Bones then he can’t possibly love Leonard; because Leonard is an ugly shattered thing and not the framework for Jim’s existence. Not like bones.

“You only think you can’t be Bones because you haven’t had a Jim.” Jim explains softly, the way you would read a bed-time story to a child. “And I know it’s taken me too long but I am here now and I’m not going anywhere.” Jim assures him. “I won’t leave you this time.”

“You can’t make that promise.” Leonard says.

“I just have.” Jim states.

He glides his fingers away from Leonard’s jaw and they come to rest gently over his lips. Leonard closes his eyes and kisses Jim’s fingertips. They breathe together for a while, each wanting to preserve this moment forever. Their moment of salvation and restoration and-

When Leonard wakes up the light is too harsh and he is actually crying; heaving breaths into him as each fresh tear follows the pre-laid tracks down his face. He almost wants to laugh but he doesn’t have the breath to do so. That’s been one of the worse dreams he’s had, not a typical nightmare, not the one where Jim flat-lines or where Jim was discharged from the Fleet and became a hapless junky. Leonard knows he won’t be able to sleep again so he goes into work early, it’s only half five, not to early that his presence will be out of the ordinary. He  _is_  a medical researcher after all;  _of course_  he works irregular hours.

The dream wasn’t a premonition, Jim never comes to his apartment, or his lab, or his office. The first time he sees Jim he’s walking down a corridor heading to a conference room and Jim is standing in said corridor talking to Spock over a PADD. Jim won’t notice Leonard if he doesn’t look up from the PADD and even though Leonard’s heart rate ratchets he calmly continues down the rest of the corridor. He thinks he’s made it but doesn’t count on Spock, that green-blooded, emotionless,  _robot_ , calling his name.

“Doctor McCoy.” He repeats and Leonard is compelled to turn around.

“Spock.” Leonard says. “Jim.” He nods at the Captain who looks up from the PADD as if he’s been slapped.

“Doctor.” Jim returns with a curt nod. He looks nothing like he did in Leonard’s dream; he looks sure of himself and confident but harder than Leonard remembers him. Spock looks as if he’s going to say something but a look from Jim seems to quell the Vulcan’s desire to do so.

“Nice seeing you both.” Leonard says with another incline of his head. “I’ve got a meeting to be getting to.” He says.

“Of course, doctor.” Spock says and Leonard is able to escape.

He is unable, however, to concentrate on the conference. He just thinks about the hard edge in Jim’s eyes, the blame and the hatred. Because he knows that’s what it was, he knows the look of revulsion and disappointment because he sees it in his own eye whenever he looks into a mirror. When Leonard walks into the officer’s mess Jim is sitting alone at a table in the corner, Leonard grabs a plate of lasagne and a side salad and sits somewhere out of Jim’s direct line of sight, although he can feel Jim’s gaze burning into him while he forks pasta sheets around his plate. He looks up and meets Jim’s eyes. Jim looks away but then frowns and looks back up at Leonard. He grabs his tray and stalks towards Leonard’s table, setting it down rough enough that his empty glass falls over, then he throws himself into the bench across from Leonard.

“What are you doing here?” He demands, voice low, not wanting to draw attention to their table any more than his tray crashing already has.

“I work here.” Leonard huffs.

“I mean here, in  _here_ ,  _now_ , why the  _fuck_  are you everywhere I am?” Jim questions.

“Jim, we bumped into each other  _once_. I’m entitled to eat whenever and wherever I fancy.” Leonard says.

“I can’t be around you.” Jim says.

“So spend your debrief time somewhere else.” Leonard suggests tightly, desperately not wanting to be rude to Jim but really starting to feel the brush of indignation fill his throat. “Why did you even come over here?”

“I don’t know.” Jim huffs. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You’re a walking contradiction you know?” Leonard says.

“I don’t like how things were left. I should have commed, made sure you were okay. You seem to have done alright.” Jim notes, looking at the collection of PADDs on the table beside Bones’ lunch tray.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Leonard agrees gently.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim wonders.

“I lost everything when I left the  _Enterprise_. Researching dirt-side might have been the best I could have done when I was crippled with aviophobia but I started to feel like I belonged in space and now here I am, writing-up neural procedures instead of practicing them.” Leonard explains. “I hope you do well Jim and I hope you can think better of me one day but I can't do this, I have to go.” He says standing up, picking his PADDs up, slipping them under one arm to lift the tray.

“Bones.” Jim calls once Leonard has made it about four tables from the exit. Leonard turns and waits, watching Jim sigh and draw his lips into a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I wish things could be different and I hope they get better for you.”

“Thanks, Jim. Good luck with your next mission.” Leonard returns, heading through the mess doors. He wishes he could feel at peace now but he just aches deep in his chest. Everything just feels vacant. Days fade together and Leonard is only half aware that the debrief period is over and now the crew of the  _Enterprise_  will be free to do as they please until the refit is complete and they get their new mission orders.

There is a note on his office desk the day the  _Enterprise_  departs on its next mission. A letter addressed to  _Bones_.

_Bones,_

_We’re leaving on a six month tour of the delta quadrant, I can’t really go into it but I wasn’t sure how to start this. I feel a bit ridiculous writing to you, we used to be able to talk so easily. That was the thing I missed most when you first left, just being able to talk to someone the way I could talk to you. I put us in that rut, I could have fought for you to stay, you know, but I was a coward. I didn’t want to have to face you, face what I’d done to you._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you loved me. And I don’t blame you for what happened, I took advantage of your feelings for me and I was wrong. I regret not having you in my life but I know in my heart we’ll never get back to what we were. I don’t know if it’s worse to try but inevitably fail or to have to live the rest of my life with a Bones shaped whole in it._

_I miss you so much, Bones._

_And I’m sorry – I won’t ever be able to say it enough._

_JTK_

And Leonard was sorry too, Jim, so very,  _very_  sorry.

 


	3. His Leo

Leo had heard about the attack on the Enterprise from one of his brightest students, she was dating a fellow cadet who was in the command track and apparently this was how news travelled these days. Leo had been teaching for the Starfleet Medical track for just over a year now. Seeing Jim the last time he was docked gave Leo something to think about – they were never going to get back what they had lost. The flame had been extinguished. Reconciliation was futile. So Leo needed to move on. He couldn’t live for Jim anymore because there was no  _Jim_  anymore, they were both too far gone. Who would have thought that half-cocked letter would have given Leo the push he needed to claw his way out of the pitch-black crevice he’d backed himself into.

Jim always did have a knack for snapping him into shape.

He watches the news coverage on it and, as would be expected, the students have completely over exaggerated everything. The Enterprise is still being pulled into a Starbase for repairs but no one was hurt and Jim will be at Starfleet HQ for the next couple of weeks to debrief the brass. Leo’s not quite sure how he feels about that. The fact that he’s working more in the academy grounds than over at HQ and the adjoining research facilities makes Leo feel better. He doesn’t feel that deep rooted sickness that he felt the last time he was avoiding Jim, this time he isn’t even _avoiding_  Jim, he just feels nervous. He feels hyper aware, like he needs to be on guard. Maybe its because although life is better now, it’s a tentative thing, and Jim doesn’t know that. Jim isn’t aware Leo’s life is a constant tight rope exhibition and Jim always comes storming in, he isn’t the tentative type – has no reason to be – but Jim, if anything, will be the one thing able to pull the rug from under Leo and he doesn’t know if he could start again. Or, more truthfully, he knows can't.

“Leo?” He must have fallen asleep on the couch. There is a hand in his hair and the weight of his PADD is lifted from his chest. Leo flutters his eyes open and blinks up at the face above him.

“M’up.” Leo says, pulling his forty year old body up to an almost sitting position. Then there’s a warm body beside his, looking at the article pulled up on his PADD.

“Is this going to be difficult?” He asks.

“I don’t think so, not like last time anyway.” Leo admits and then he takes the hand that is resting gently on his knee and entwines their fingers. “I’m nervous though.”

“That’s okay.” He says. “I’m a psychiatrist I can deal with nervousness.”

“You’re not my psychiatrist though, you’re my partner.” Leo says carefully. “You’re allowed to be nervous too.”

“I am.”

Leo starting dating the psychiatrist after they met at a neurology conference a few months after Jim departed the last time. At first Leo didn’t know that’s what it was, didn’t remember what it was like to have to build up a relationship with someone and not just  _being_  in a state of loving them automatically. They clicked, but at the same time it felt horrible letting someone in again, Leo felt like he was laid out bare, vulnerable, and easily destroyed. He was also worried that he wouldn’t be capable of giving this man what he needed, and deserved, from an intimate relationship. In order for Leo to even give this thing half a chance of working he had to offer a full disclosure. He bore his soul to this man and just when he thought it might have been a mistake he’d had his cheek kissed and his tears wiped away.

He understands Leo’s love for Jim but has also been the main reason Leo’s tried to put a cap on it and put it on a shelf. It isn’t that difficult because Jim isn’t usually around but now that Jim is back planet-side Leo is starting to feel bruised again. Like the last forgotten peach in the fruit bowl, the one that’ll eventually get thrown out to the birds.

Leo finds himself feeling immeasurably lucky that on the occasion that Jim first seeks him out his partner of a year is sitting beside him. Jim enters the professors’ lounge looking jovial and at ease but quickly catches sight of a man sitting too close to Leo and his face falls into a frown.

“Hello Bones.” He says, gaze continuously flicking over to the unfamiliar man.

“Jim.” Leo greets, heart pounding in his chest at the flash of protectiveness in his bright blue eyes, always so much bluer when he’d just come back from the black, so alight with fresh discoveries and new knowledge.

“Did you get my note?” Jim asks.

“From the last time you were docked?” Leo clarifies. “Yes, I got it. Thank you.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing somebody.” Jim states.

“For a little over a year now.” Leo nods.

“Henry Fielding.” He introduces himself, standing and out-stretching his hand towards Jim, who dutifully grasps it and they shake. “I’d better head off, Leo, I’ll let the two of you catch up. Comm me if you need anything.” He says, turning to face Leo and giving him a pointed look full of meaning. Leo nods and gently wraps the fingers of one hand around his forearm, pulling his lover into a gentle press of lips before he is able to breathe again.

“Could we talk?” Jim says, looking at one of the doors that lead to small meeting rooms, they are all empty at the moment but Leo wishes they weren’t, doesn’t trust himself to be alone with Jim. Leo doesn’t want to feel the love and desire swell inside him at the sight of Jim but he can’t think of an excuse that will deter his once Captain who is already holding the door of one of the rooms open, waiting for Leo to step inside.

“Jim, maybe we shouldn’t-”

“I just needed to see you.” Jim says. “I missed you. I thought you might write back, or comm. I was going to send you a vid-comm but I was afraid it wouldn’t be welcome. I don’t suppose it’s fair, me wanting things from you when you’re trying to move on with your life…”

“How  _dare_  you.” Leo says quietly. “You’re right, James, it isn’t fair. I spent three years tearing myself apart at the thought of what I did to you, at the thought of how I let myself ruin our friendship. I was in  _love_  with you Jim; I let you do  _cocaine_  because it was the only way I could get affection from you. I know I didn’t deserve forgiveness. You said it yourself; things can’t just go back to how they were. But you can’t begrudge me the chance of happiness, you just c-”

“I don’t.” Jim say quickly with a frantic shake of the head, he doesn't want to be confrontational, that much is clear  _but sometimes Jim just can't help himself_. “Oh God, Bones I don’t.”

“And stop  _calling_  me that.” Leo huffs.

“Sorry. I’m just  _sorry_. Sorry I left it so long, sorry I left  _you_  for so long.” Jim admits. “I want you to be happy. But I thought… I want you to be happy with  _me_.” Jim finishes, voice weak and pitiful. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t-”

“No you shouldn’t.” Leo huffs, water threatening to blur his vision. “We wouldn’t be happy together Jim. It would be a mess of guilt and hurt and blame and I can’t go back to hating myself. I’ve just clawed my way back into the light again and I can’t risk that.”

“Not even for me?” Jim smiles gently.

“ _Don’t do that_.” Leo snaps, all he can think of in that moment is blood shot eyes and a desperate, cocky smile, begging for an ounce of coke, manipulating Bones until he had nothing left. “Henry is a  _really_  good man. Better than I deserve.” Leo says.

“I used to be a good man. I just lost my way. I need you Bones. I don’t want to be in space anymore, it’s empty without you.” Jim says.

“It’s too late Jim.” Leo says ruefully. “For us, it’s just too late.”

“You don’t love me anymore?” Jim wonders.

“I’ll always love you kid, that’s the problem.” Leo says. “We’re not good for each other.”

“We are!” Jim insists. “We were, before the- well… In the academy and with Nero, and then with Khan, you brought me  _back to life_. But I was different, I know I was messed up. I wish I had never had that first line. I wish I hadn’t have dragged you into it. But even then there was a part of me that wanted you. I wasn’t brave enough, but I was when I was high and you were  _so perfect_.”

“Stop it.” Leo orders. “I can’t go back there. Maybe you’ve gotten through it and you can talk about it like it was a trip to the derby but I  _can’t_. I’m terrified that my love for you compromises who I am. I’m scared that I just love wrong. I was wrong with Joss and with you and I now I just have to try so hard to do it right this time. I’m sorry Jim. I can’t give in to you because that just proves it, doesn’t it, that I’d just give you anything you asked without a thought for anyone else. I can’t be that person.”

“Okay, Leonard.” Jim nods. “Okay.” he repeats, letting the rejection settle over him in waves. “I’ll go.” He adds softly.

“Thank you.” Is all Leo can manage.

They see each other in passing while Jim is still needed around Starfleet HQ but little more than polite nods and hesitant smiles are exchanged.  Leo feels winded every time he does catch Jim’s gaze though and this constant breathlessness is making him skittish. The psychiatrist can tell.

“Do we need to take time apart?” He wonders one evening when they’re both sat on the comfier sofa in their shared apartment, Leo’s head pillowed in his lap.

“No.” Leo says quickly, snapping his eyes open to look up at his lover. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Leo.” He promises. “I just needed to be certain that was what you wanted.”

“I do love him.” Leo says regretfully. “I can’t help it. But it’s different to what we have. Ours could last. I  _want_ ours to last.” He urges.

“You don’t have to blame yourself Leo. We can’t help how we feel.” Henry murmurs. “You’ve done more than enough to atone for what happened, both you and Jim need to move past it. You’ll never really heal if you don’t let yourself.”

“I’m not going to heal if I’m in Starfleet, I don’t know how I ever convinced myself I could stay.” Leo says quietly.

“We can both find employment in the civilian sectors. Everyone needs a doctor Leo, or you could carry on teaching.” Henry suggests. “I want this to work too and if moving out of San Francisco, if leaving Starfleet, will help you, then it’ll help us.”

“You’d move for me?” Leo asks.

“You’re not the only man who would follow the person you love into the unknown.” Henry smiles. “You went into space for Jim, maybe now you need to do something for yourself.”

“You talk about me as if I’m some selfless martyr.” Leo scoffs.

“No. Not at all.” Henry says gently. “But sometimes you do need to be more selfish, Leo McCoy. Because whether you’re happy to accept it or not, you are a generous, altruistic man with a heart of gold. I can’t tell you what happened with Jim wasn’t monumentally stupid and careless and grossly unethical because you know I’d be lying, but it happened five years ago. He’s clean. He’s still got his Captaincy. His crew are as loyal as ever. You need to do something for you now. We all make mistakes.”

“Where would we go?” Leo asks.

“Wherever you’d like. You’ve got an empty house sitting on a patch of land in Georgia, we could start there.” Henry suggests.

“That would be psychiatrically cathartic wouldn’t it?” Leo offers a gentle smirk.

“Well, it would remind you of your childhood, of life before Starfleet. Luckily it was never a house Jocelyn shared with you and so isn’t marred by that. Although, you lost both your parents while living in that house so it’s a mixed bag really.” Henry shrugs softly, kissing Leo’s forehead. “You should talk to Jim before you leave, don’t just duck and run because you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t know if I can face him.” Leo sighs.

“Did I not talk about your bravery while I was listing all your qualities?” Henry jibes.

…

He comms Jim with an invite to coffee in the officer’s mess; it’s a neutral place with little emotional value to either of them but it isn’t too out in the open. Leo’s already handed in his resignation and their furniture is already on a shuttle headed for that big ole house in Savannah. He’s moving towards a new life, a fresh start, he just needs to cut this last tie. He needs to say goodbye to Jim. Once last goodbye. The final goodbye.

Jim looks optimistic when Leo enters the mess, his eyes are alert and they carefully watch for all of Leo’s tells. Leo tries to breathe – tries to stay calm. Jim stands when Leo finally gets to the corner of the mess he’s sat at. Leo hates this courtesy, it really solidifies his point that they aren’t Jim and Bones anymore, Jim and Bones bitch and whine at each other and laugh and grouch light-heartedly about it, they don’t stand on ceremony, they don’t mind their pees and ques. Leo sits across from Jim Kirk and sighs.

“I’m leaving.” He says.

“What?” Jim scoffs. “You’ve only just sa-”

“ _Starfleet_ , Jim. I’m leaving Starfleet.” Leo clarifies.

“What… why?  _When_?” Jim looks pained and confused.

“We’re heading to Savannah in the morning.” He replies. “I needed to say goodbye.”

“You can’t go.” Jim shakes his head, eyes wide, frightened almost. “No this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I’ve got a year dirt-side. I was going to make amends, we were going to be okay again.” Jim states, breathless.

“No Jim.” Leo shakes his head. “We make each other crazy, we’re not good for each other.  _I’m not good for you_.”

“But I love you.” Jim’s voice breaks.

“Oh, Jim.” And Leo wants to cry. “Please don’t, don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” Jim says. “I’m sorry. I wish I could let you go but I know I can’t. Every time I see you my heart races. We fucked up, okay. Jesus  _Christ_ , we fucked up, but we’re different now. I don’t even drink, I wouldn’t… You’d never be put in that situation again. If you need to leave Starfleet I’ll go with you.”

“No, Jim.” Leo pleads gently. “Starfleet is your life. You were born to be a Captain. The Enterprise needs you.”

“You need me.” Jim whispers.

“No. Not need, Jim.” Leo says. “I want you, with everything I have; it hurts how much I love you. And maybe that is need. Maybe you’re right. But it’s something I have to learn to live without.”

“We’re just going around in circles, if you’d just give us a  _chance_.” Jim begs.

“I’m in love with another man.” Leo says. “Henry’s good for me.”

“I’m not good for you, is that what you’re saying?” Jim asks. “Don’t say that. Please. I know I fucked up. I  _know_. But we used to be-“

“ _Used to_.” Leo interrupts.

“You can’t leave me.” Jim says, voice weak and numb.

“Jim.” Leo gulps.

“Bones.” Jim counters.

“It sounds so foreign.” Leo admits.

“It doesn’t have to.”

“Jim, I’ve handed in my notice, we’re booked on a shuttle tomorrow. Henry has been offered a position on Emory’s psych ward.” Leo says. “It’s done. We’re going. We have to.”

“So this is goodbye, is it?” Jim questions with a sneer playing at his lips. “We both get a fresh start, wipe the slate clean, forget the best friendship either one of us ever had?”

“I’m sorry Jim.”

“Seems we’re both full of apologies but it doesn’t change things.” Jim shrugs. “You could stay but you won’t, you could let me come with you but you won’t. You could let me love you, we could be together, but you’re being a stubborn bastard and you  _won't_.”

“I’m with Henry.” Leo says.

“And why is that? Doesn’t he feel a bit shitty playing second fiddle to our cosmic love affair? Do you enjoy the domesticity he offers?” Jim questions spitefully.

“We haven’t had a cosmic love affair. I let you do coke and then slept with you, or maybe you prefer the version that goes along the lines of you slept with me  _for_  coke. Either way it ends in the same place with me basically drugging and raping you.” Leo hisses. “I have to  _live_  with that. That I drugged and  _raped_  by best friend.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jim frowns. “Don’t say that, you didn’t rape anybody.”

“And yes I do enjoy the domesticity, the security, the tenderness. I think I need that. I don’t have the fight in me anymore, Jim. I’m probably not even the person you’re in love with.” Leo says apologetically.

“You shouldn’t let the fight go out of you. You’re not giving Henry the full experience if you do.” Jim says with a sad, lopsided smile.

“I should go.” Leo says gently.

“No you shouldn’t.” Jim counters.

“What more is there to say?” Leo asks wearily.

“Can I write to you?” Jim wonders hesitantly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jim.” Leo shakes his head.

“I want to reconnect with you. You keep saying how we’ve both changed but-”

“Can’t you just let me  _go_ , goddammit?  _Please._  As an act of mercy or something?” Leo pleads. “No comms, no letters, no visits. Cords cut. Move on?” He questions.

“I don’t think I can.” Jim’s eyes well.

“For me?” Leo insists, standing up, ready to run and hide. “ _Please try._ Just try, for me.”

“For you.” Jim repeats in a whisper, watching the doors of the mess swing closed in Leo's wake. 


	4. Their Love

Hearing it from the almost muted voice of a young Andorian reporter via the retro-look radio, perched diagonally across the bedside table next to his side of the bed, on what should have been a lazy Sunday morning, was  _not_  how he should have heard it. Leo realised that much. He realised that he shouldn’t have been just another member of the uninformed public, a civilian with no inside knowledge of Starfleet operations. He should have been there, he should have felt as the cracks formed in the hull of the Enterprise, he should have been on board to patch up his crew as the Klingon warbird attacked full throttle.

He shouldn’t have heard that  _decorated Starfleet Captain James T. Kirk has once again risked his life for his crew and as a result has suffered major medical trauma, currently being kept in a medically induced coma until physicians at Starfleet’s intensive care department believe he is stable enough to revive_ over the fucking  _radio_.

Henry’s still lying asleep in his arms and all Leo wants to do is get up and run.  _Run_.

It’s been nearly six years since Leo has seen Jim. He still thinks about him most days, it’s gradually gotten less and less. The first year of being back in Savannah was the worst, because Jim was still carrying out administrative duties Earth side, helping Starfleet rework the system, keeping things fresh and protocol current. And Leo could feel his presence in everything he did. But when the Enterprise had departed on its second five year mission Leo began to breathe more easily. He stepped into this new life and seemed to shed the skin of Starfleet officer, shed the skin that housed all his sins. His thoughts of Jim turned from twisted titbits that would gnaw at his insides to lighter things, things that would take him by surprise. He would catch himself thinking of Jim when the reddest, ripest apples came into bloom or when he’d take his first steps into the deep blue of the Atlantic and see Jim’s eyes smiling up at him.

And now Jim was lying in an ICU bed in San Francisco only four months shy of completing their five year mission while Leo was sitting pretty in Georgia wrapped up in the warmth of another man.

He turned the radio off completely and heaved himself out of bed with a sigh. He’s forty-five for Christ’s sake; he’s hardly a spring chicken. Although he doesn’t look as worn as he did seven or eight or nine years ago. Leo thinks the picture he has in his head of Jim lying in ICU will probably make him look  _one hundred_  and forty five by the end of the day.

 _That settles it then_ , he supposes.

He’s dressed and packed when Henry wanders out onto the back porch.

“Going somewhere?” He wonders.

“I’m sorry.” Leo sighs.

“He’s back then, is he?” Henry asks.

“He’s been hurt.” Leo says, his voice weak with guilt and fear. “I’m a really bad person.”

“No.” Henry refutes gently, sitting on the porch swing beside him, pushing out a breath. “I just fell in love with a man who was already entirely unable to return those feelings. You never made him into anything less than he was, Leo. I knew there was always the chance you’d go back.”

“I should never have let you fall for me.” Leo sighs. “You’re more than I deserve.”

“Maybe.” Henry offers him a playful smile.

“Why are you making this so easy on me?” Leo asks.

“Doesn’t fit my nature to make you feel guilty, Leo, you’ll do a fine job of tying yourself up in knots without my help.” Henry says.

“What if I’m too late?” Leo asks.

“You’ve both been too late and too soon, too fast and too slow. I think by this point you just have to throw caution to the wind. It’ll either work or it won’t but neither of you can deny you need to try.” Henry says with a shrug.

So Leo does try. He gets on the earliest shuttle that leaves from Savannah to a connection in Atlanta and then straight into Starfleet’s shuttle dock in San Francisco. He is still holding his duffle bag when he walks into the waiting room, he recognises some of the nurses’ faces and some of them return a flash of recognition. He can barely say Jim’s name around the lump in his throat but they seem to know who he’s here to see and guide him to the windowed room.  They don’t let him inside.

“The doctors still have him under an induced coma.” The nurse says.

“Who’s his attending physician?” Leo asks.

“Doctor Piper, he’s a neurological specialist.” The nurse clarifies. But Leo knows the name and already knows what Mark Piper is and isn’t a specialist in. He would trust Piper to oversee neurological surgery on himself, but does he trust Piper with Jim? No, not particularly. Does he have a choice? No, he fucking doesn’t.  

The helplessness is only emphasised by the fact that Leo has to watch Jim from behind a pane of glass. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, alternating between watching the biobed monitor, all the other equipment Jim is hooked up to and what little he can see of Jim’s pale face. He’s got some deep bruising along one side of his face, deep enough that initial regeneration couldn’t clear it.

He just wants to touch Jim, to hold him, to lay his hand over Jim’s chest to feel the steady thump of his heart and the breathing that is currently being manufactured by a ventilator.

“Nurse.” Leo calls over to a petite blonde woman. “Nurse Chapel, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and you’re Doctor McCoy.” She nods with a smile.

“I understand that Ji- that  _Captain Kirk_ , has to be kept in the high dependency unit but could I maybe, sit in… with him?” Leo asks in a small, child-like voice.

“We’re not meant to let visitors in the HDUs. Especially when it isn’t family.” She says regretfully.

“Of course.” And it breaks Leo’s heart to say it. “I understand.” His voice is rough and he knows that if he was in the quiet of his own house he would cry, he turns back to watch Jim through the glass.

“Maybe I could let you in for half an hour or so, just this once.” Chapel says, her resolve clearly faltering.

“I remember you being sterner, Christine.” Leo ventures.

“Yes, Leonard.” She smiles gently. “But I remember you being more ill-tempered, an utter asshole, if I recall correctly.” She adds.

“Mellowed with age.” He shrugs.

“It appears you’re not the only one.” She grins, slight crow’s feet forming at the edge of her eyes. They had shared a few lectures during their academy days; Chapel was actually his TA when he was covering one of his professor’s xenoneurology classes in his third year. They had an easy camaraderie because she was extremely competent and refused to take any of Leo’s bullshit. It seems a century since the easy flow the academy. A century since he and Jim were cadets who drank together and spilled secrets of dreams and fears, of the what-ifs and the hopes for the future. A century since Leo fell in love.

“Quickly.” Chapel says, cutting through Leo’s thoughts, as she ushers him into Jim’s private care room.

“Thank you.” He says, unable to fill his words with the depth of gratitude and relief he actually feels.

“You’ll be gone by six.” She says, flicking her eyes to the clock and Leo swallows the lump in his throat and nods at her.

Leo has seen Jim look this pale, this  _lifeless_ , once before. But after Khan Leo swore he’d never let anything like that happen to Jim again, but this time he wasn’t there. He couldn’t stop this. And now Jim is fighting for his life  _again_ and Leo wants to rage at the cosmos for letting this happen. Last time Jim recovered, but he’s not superhuman, he’s pushing on forty, will he be able to do it again?

It brings Leo full circle. He thinks about how low Jim was feeling after he’d been released from Starfleet Medical, how he’d still felt battered and bruised – both body and mind. Death had given Jim a taste of no-win scenarios and for the first time in his life Leo had been privy to a scared – no, _terrified_  – Jim Kirk. And it was a long, slow, road before Jim came back to himself. But it was the drugs. Jim  _hadn’t_  been able to cope, not really, and he shouldn’t have had all the responsibilities the Brass were pushing onto him - he needed just a little something to get him through the day. It all started in a harmless little club east of HQ and it ended in destruction and heartbreak in the CMOs office on the Enterprise.

_Bones is numb from the layer of coke covering his body._

_“Fuck, Bones.” Jim hisses and the force of his breath blows some of the coke into the air, Bones reflexively breathes in. The stuff is good, really good, and he can understand why Jim goes back for more, and more, and more. “I need to be inside you.” He says, carefully snorting the line he’s made before brushing a hand over Bones’ chest, rubbing the coke into the skin above his heart._

Leo takes Jim’s hand into his and murmurs a litany of  _sorry_ s. He pleads with Jim to make it, because if nothing else he just needs to see those baby blues one last time. For Jim to know that Leo didn’t leave him, that he came back and that he’s so, so sorry.

It’s five past six and Chapel taps on the glass window as she passes. It takes all his strength to leave Jim, leave him alone in this cold private care room. But he promises Jim he’ll be back tomorrow, he bends to place a kiss on Jim’s forehead but stops himself. He needs to wait. Needs Jim’s permission. Can’t just assume.

He checks into a hotel, he researches the fate of the rest of the crew and is surprised, but relieved, to see there were no more major causalities. It seemed that, while still clinging onto consciousness, Jim gave the team in medbay strict orders that the crew took priority over himself, that any casualties needed to be seen to before his own. There are no names Leo recognises on the crew fatality list but it seems Chekov is also spending a week or so recovery in Starfleet Medical, although the net doesn’t specify what his injuries were. Spock also suffered some minor trauma but has sought treatment on New Vulcan along with his companion, who Leo assumes to still be Nyota, even though the net doesn’t specify that either.

Leo is back the next day with a bouquet of fresh flowers, white tulips, blue and purple hyacinths and lavender coloured roses that grow naturally on Betazed, it’s a bouquet that asks for forgiveness and makes a promise to Jim that Leo will be there for him now, in whatever capacity he needs. They brighten up the room and maybe, even if the doctors pull Jim out of the coma when no one else is there, Jim will wake to the knowledge that someone  _has_  been there with him. That he wasn’t alone.

Leo asks Chapel when Piper’s going to bring Jim around and she offers him a small shrug. “He’s getting better all the time but Doctor Piper wants to give his body enough time to heal naturally, to get the time out that it needs. They’re thinking sometime towards the start of next week.” She explains.

“Okay.” Leo nods. He can be patient, he can wait, whatever happens needs to be what’s best for Jim. He can’t push, can’t demand, can’t do anything that might compromise Jim. He’s lost him too many times – this time it has to be for keeps.

Leo isn’t allowed on the ward the day they bring Jim round. It’s a Tuesday and Leo’s practically been awake since Sunday morning. Chapel sends him home to get a bit of rest, to freshen up so he doesn’t scare the life right back out of Jim when they do finally let Leo in to see him. Whenever that will be. Leo compromises, although he doesn’t tell Chapel that. He walks to the café at the end of the street, buys a hot cup of coffee and a Danish pastry, washes his face in the small sink of the café’s WC and buys a new plain white t-shirt on his way back to the hospital, discarding the one he's wearing. It looks like he's changed and maybe Chapel won't suspect he hasn't been back to his hotel. He has about an hours sleep in the waiting room before freshening up again in the hospital toilets and going in search of someone that has the authority to let him see Jim.

Chapel tells Leo that Jim is sleeping.

Leo begs her to let him back into the room.

She gives him a worried little frown but lets him slip back into the familiar chair at Jim’s bedside. “Thank you.” Leo whispers, and he doesn’t know if it’s aimed at Chapel or Piper or God or  _Jim_  – who didn’t die and is here, now, breathing on his own and sleeping, not lying unconscious and half-dead. “Thank you.” He repeats, taking Jim’s hand.

He sits there for an indeterminable amount of time, cataloguing the movements under Jim’s eyelids and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Leo can be patient, he’s waited this long, he can surely manage a little longer.

Jim’s eyelids flutter and he frowns as he tries to adjust to the dimly lit hospital room. Leo stays still, just the loose thread of their fingers the only way he’s making his presence known. Jim’s hand squeezes reflexively and he looks in Leo’s direction, frowning deeper then. “Bones?” His voice is scratchy and Leo lifts the cup of water placed dutifully on a nearby cabinet, placing the straw in between Jim’s chapped lips.

“Hi, Jim.” Leo says.

“You’re here? Really here?” Jim asks, confusing playing across his features, eyes unsure, uncertain, slightly scared.

“I’m here, Jim.” Leo nods. “You need to drink.” He adds, edging the straw slightly closer to Jim so he can take a longer sip.

“’M fine.” He says, pulling his head away from the straw without taking his eyes off Leo. “Shouldn’t I be dead?”

“Maybe.” Leo shrugs. “I don’t know the ins and outs of the surgeries, the doctors won’t tell me anything. But I’m so glad you’re not, Jim.”

“You came back.” Jim says warily. “What about-”

“I had to come back. When I heard… I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” Leo says, tears threating to form. “I needed to make sure you were okay, I just couldn’t-”

“Hey.” Jim breathes. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if I’d have lost you. I realised I couldn’t let you die without seeing you, even if you were shot to hell, I wasn’t going to be able to just sit back and move on with my life.” Leo admits. “I should never have pushed you away.”

“I think it’s something we’re both guilty of.” Jim smiles then, it’s weak and tired but it’s all for Bones.

“I used to look at you and just see all the wrong I’d done, but I look at you now and I see hope.” Leo says, rolling his own eyes at himself to blink away his tears.

“But do you see your future?” Jim asks; thumb rubbing soothing circles over Leo’s knuckles, it's the only question worth an answer and Leo nods.

“I think so, if you’ll let me, if you’ll have me back in your life. Just one day at a time.” Leo says softly.

“That’s all anyone can promise.” Jim agrees. “Me even more than most.”

“Don’t say that, you’re not going anywhere, you’re gonna be fine.” Leo assures himself, just as much as Jim.

“It’s going to be difficult.” Jim says.

“When is anything involving you ever not?” Leo counters with a gentle quirk of his lips, Jim’s lips tug into a grin and he looks like the kid at the academy again, getting into all kinds of mischief, eyes alight with the love of a new challenge.

“You bought me flowers.” Jim states, looking over at the blue, purple and white bouquet, and Leo flushes. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“They’re to say sorry, Jim.” And Jim opens his mouth to protest. “Just one last time, before we start over.” Leo adds quickly and this seems to appease Jim who blinks a few times before nodding.

“I’m glad you’re home, Bones.” Jim says sleepily, Leo throws a glance at the biobed monitor and by the time he looks back Jim’s already drifted off into another light doze. He’ll need as much sleep as he can get while he’s on the mend. Leo just smiles, leaning forward to kiss Jim’s cheek.

“Me too, Jim.” He says. “Me too.”

They’re going to have to fight tooth and nail to make this work, Leo knows this much for certain. They are two men changed so much, from time just as much as everything that they’ve been through. But Henry was right, they’ve come too far now not to at least give it a try, and they’re going to have to try their damnedest. So Leo calls into Jim for breakfast the next day, and they talk for a while about this and that, surface stuff. Leo complains about the hotel concierge and Jim gripes good-naturedly about getting out of Starfleet Medical as soon as he can. It takes six days of griping, and then Leo is scared that a shift in their routine so quickly might set them back but Jim just smiles and invites Leo out for dinner that evening because of course Jim’s got nothing in his fridge.

“This is our first date.” Jim says. “I’ve known you for seventeen years and we’re just finally having our first date.”

“Has it really been that long?” Leo asks, even though he knows full well it has. “There’ve been a lot of gaps.” He says regretfully.

“So we’ll just have to fill them.” Jim grins. “You don’t have to abstain on my account.” Jim motions Leo’s half-filled glass of water with an amused smile.

“I ah, I don’t drink anymore either.” And Leo doesn’t know whether to elaborate, doesn’t know if his words would still carry enough weight to hurt Jim. “Haven’t since leaving the Enterprise.” He says softly. Jim flushes with something Leo’s sure might be shame, but then he composes himself. Uncomfortable things are going to come up sooner or later; they just need to learn to roll with the punches.

“We have that in common at least, then.” Is what Jim settles on for his diplomatic response, Leo offers a tentative nod and then huffs. “I can’t be exasperating you already, Bonesy, we haven’t even gotten through our starters.”

“It’s just the trepidation of everything, all the hesitation.” Leo grouses. “I’m frustrating myself.”

“ _We_  made things weird; we just gotta work to made them un-weird.” Jim shrugs.

“Sound advice, if you’re an obnoxious adolescent.” Leo scoffs.

“I thought it was always infant?” Jim questions.

“Seems you’ve matured a bit over the years.” Leo smirks.

“Gee, thanks.” And Jim tries to look affronted, he really does, he even manages a small pout, but his smile bursts out from the seams of his lips and Leo breathes again. Maybe for the first time in ten years.

“I love you, Jim.”  Leo admits quietly, like it’s a secret he only wants to share with Jim. Jim noticeably stills, flicking his bright blue gaze up at Leo, mouth slightly open. Leo exhales. “Is it too soon?” And then Jim is all kinetic energy once more, letting out a small ghost of a laugh before shaking his head.

“No.” He says quietly, taking Bones' hands in his. “It's long overdue.”


	5. Our Chance

Jim first realised that he loved Bones about five minutes after they started the journey from Starbase One, leaving Bones alone in that cold place that tasted of betrayal. He had gotten a second wave of realisation once he made it back to the quiet of his quarters and been able to cry into his pillow. Jim tried to work through his feelings methodically, the way he worked through withdrawal. He built a wall around himself that Bones wouldn’t be able to penetrate. He hardened himself.

He next realised he loved Bones when he wrote that letter.

He had written  _I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you loved me_ but what he should’ve written was  _I love you so goddamned much_. But he couldn’t do that to Bones. Not when he was heading back into the black, couldn’t say please take me back when Bones was only just starting to put his own life back in order. He couldn’t be what Bones needed because he was still walking around in a titanium shell, trying to push Bones away because he couldn’t bear the pressure of all that honest, pure, love. A love he had crippled and tainted with his manipulation and serpentine lies.

Jim hated Henry the moment he saw him sitting  _way too close_ to Bones on one of the staffroom couches. It wasn’t even professional for Christ’s sake. He wanted to rip the man’s throat out and scream mineminemine into Bones’ ear. He supposed that was a sign of some serious issues that needed resolving. He had no claim over Bones; it was unfair to even assume Bones still retained any feelings of affection whatsoever, for him. He was spiteful and it hurt him to be so. He sobbed a lot that year he spent dirt side. He wanted to write to Bones, wanted to get a shuttle to Georgia and whisk him away.

But Bones had made him promise to  _try_. Try and forget, try and move on. He owed Bones the chance of happiness, the chance of a wholesome love – something constant that Bones could wake up to and fall asleep with every day for the rest of his life. Jim decided that that was when he loved Bones best, when he realised that Bones deserved more than Jim could ever give him. When actually it was probably Jim who needed Bones more than Bones needed him.

Jim never could call Bones anything but that. Even in the privacy of his own head up in the black he clung to the thought that one day they might be Jim and Bones again, that maybe Bones could forgive him. He’d have gotten himself blown up much quicker if he knew that would be the final straw in bringing Bones home.

_“It’s going to be difficult.”_

And it was.

Jim was in love with Bones but he was terrified of being responsible for Bones’ heart, he’d already broken it three or four times by now. And Bones still walks around thinking he  _raped_  Jim. It means they have serious intimacy issues. Which is weird because Jim’s been fucking anything that’ll stay still long enough whenever he’s been on shore leave and Bones has just come out of an almost  _seven_  year relationship. Which they do talk about and Bones is completely guilt-riddled over, enough that the guy, Henry, gets to keep Bones’  _childhood_  home while the doctor works in a free clinic just east of the Castro and lives in a shoe-box apartment.

Jim hates himself because he makes Bones go into automatic atone mode and it’s leaves him threat bare.

Jim wants to ask Bones to move in with him.

It’s been four months already, or should it be only? Jim isn’t sure. Because he’s one messed up cookie and maybe he’s going to crumble.

The first time Jim tells Bones he loves him in the perfect way he always should have been doing Bones purses his lips to keep from crying. Jim swallows the lump in his throat and apologises. Jim telling Bones he loves him makes him think of Jim the coke addict – how much of a setback is that?

“I’m screwing you up more then I’m making you happy.” Jim comes to the conclusion about six months after their first date. “I’m an asshole and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“You’re not an asshole and you’re not screwing me up.” Bones huffs. “I  _was_  screwed up, past tense. I’m relieved to be around you, it makes breathing easier.”

“Then you should believe me when I tell you I love you.” Jim urges. “ _Please_.”

“I do.” Bones says. “It’s just, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, since the academy practically and now you’ve given me everything on a plate and I can’t help feeling that I don’t deserve it, that I’ve done too much shit to gain this sort of prize.”

“It was only a couple of months.” Jim says.

“What?” Bones looks at him, confusion worrying his brow.

“I was only on coke for five months, six max. You’re carrying the burden of much worse crimes, crimes you’ve never committed. You deserve to be made a saint Bones because you’ve done so much good. Doesn’t that outweigh that misguided couple of months? You were young and stupidly in love and being manipulated by the ‘Fleets best negotiator.” Jim says. “I’m the one who should be cowering in the corner awaiting his judgement day. “I ruined the best thing I ever had. But I have you back now and you have to start letting me make amends.”

“These conversations just go around in circles.” Bones huffs and they sit in silence for a while before Bones asks: “Could I maybe stay tonight?”

It’s a completely platonic night; they move from the sofa to the bathroom, clean up in economical movements and then get into bed in pyjama bottoms, lying close but not too close. Jim wants to wrap himself around Bones, protect him from the world. He takes hold of one of Bones’ hands instead, entwining their fingers until they’re both able to drift off.

Things get easier after that. Even though sometimes Jim still feels like after everything he might choke on the poison of his own past.

The first time they make love Bones is all soft moans and tentative touches, from the light pressure from the pads of his fingertips to the soft brushes of his lips over Jim’s skin. And Jim is oh so careful with Bones. Making promises with his body rather than his words. And they are promises he wholly intends to keep. Ones that say he’ll be there and he’s not leaving and he loves Bones and he’s sorry. His job isn’t to put himself back together; he job is to piece Bones back together. He realises that now. Because Jim is already safe as houses with Bones at his side, it’s Bones who needs the extra care. Bones who needs to be kept from breaking.

Time moves forward and Jim celebrates his fortieth birthday. He’s in a restaurant filled with the crew he used to Captain, Nyota beaming at him from across the table. Hikaru and Pasha telling Bones how brilliant it is to see him, and who’d have thought he and Jim would end up together?

“Perfect, really.” Carol says with a smile and Scotty makes them toast to love and friendship and of course his darling lady  _Enterprise._

“You said he didn’t love you back.” Jim hears Nyota say to Bones.

“That was a long time ago, Nyota.” Bones counters. “And I was wrong.”

“Of course you were, Leonard. He’s loved you all along.” Nyota states and Jim thinks she’s probably spot on.

“We’re ready for it now though.” Bones returns and Jim can’t help thinking that actually Bones has made the best point of the evening. Jim’s sad that they’ve lost so much time but if it means what they can build together will be the way it should be, safe and familiar and  _healthy_ , then Jim thinks that maybe it was worth the wait.

They haven’t spoken much about what will happen once the Enterprise has had its major refit and Starfleet are ready to issue the crew with new orders. But Jim doesn’t want it to be something that hangs over their head. He tries to easy the conversation in amongst their everyday nattering, there are lots of options, Jim could asks to forego active field duty, it would mean losing the Enterprise but that doesn’t compare much to the thought of losing Bones. Jim could try and negotiate shorter mission lengths, more shore leave, but he wouldn’t be able to negotiate much with the Enterprise being the fleet’s flagship. Jim could take an early retirement, but he doesn’t feel quite old enough yet. Maybe he’ll teach or become a strategist. There are lots of planet side positions.

“Lots of couples manage.” Bones says. “I don’t want you to give her up for me.”

“I don’t want to just manage Bones, I’ve not even had you back in my life for a year, I’m not through with you yet.” Jim smirks.

“You’re a Captain Jim, you can’t just-”

“I meant it, when I said space was empty without you. I’m a Captain because I fought tooth and nail to stay one, when you left- when I left you on Starbase One… M’Benga had me on a tight leash, regular drug testing, reports to HQ. They were watching my every step. It got better over time. I regained what I had lost in terms of my captaincy but still everything felt sort of  _hollow_. The Enterprise does some amazing work and I would hate not to be a part of whatever her next voyage sees her doing. But without you up there? You don’t know how easy a decision it is to stay Earth bound.” Jim explains.

“Your life can’t revolve around me.” Bones huffs.

“You treat this like it’s something that’s going to finish any second.” Jim says. “I’m in this for the long run Bones, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want to be the rope that ties you down.” Bones says. “I’ve been there once before and it wasn’t pretty.”

“Why can’t you see it as a choice I’m making for the both of us?” Jim counters. “I want to be with you Bones, completely, wholly, with my everything. Trust me.”

“I do.” Bones nods, and he means it. But Jim can see confusion and fear swirling in those hazel eyes and he sighs.

“Maybe we should move in together, we can look for a new apartment, get something that’s completely our own.” Jim suggests. “I hate to think of you going back to that cardboard box every night, and you spend enough nights here that we know we’re not going to kill each other.”

“I’d like that.” Bones says with that coy Southern smile that is a very rare occurrence indeed.

So they end their first year together wrapped up in each other’s warm embrace. Bones has convinced Jim to give one last mission a go, just to see how they feel about it, see how they manage. It’s a two year stint and Jim knows he doesn’t feel anything other than wretched at the thought of only seeing Bones maybe five or six times in that twenty four month period, but Bones says it will set both their minds at ease. If Jim leaves now without having that one last time, exploring and navigating through space, neither of them will ever know if it could have worked with Jim retaining his captaincy and they really don’t need to add anymore anxieties to the list of potential things that might ruin their chances in the future.

“You’re gonna do great, Captain.” Bones say gently as they prepare for the Enterprise to disembark. “But you need to get on your ship.”

“I know.” Jim says quietly. “I know that. It’s just. It’s always been hard to walk away from you, Bones.”

“I know, Jim, believe me, I do. This time it’s different, though.” Bones huffs out a smile despite himself. “This time it’s okay. Because this time, this time you’re coming back to me and just knowing that makes everything okay.”

 "You're sure?" Jim asks,  _about this, about us, about me?_

"I'm certain." 


End file.
